


let your body get a tolerance

by zogratiscest



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Explicit Sexual Content, Father/Son Incest, First Time, Implied/Referenced Incest, Incest, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:35:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23344078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zogratiscest/pseuds/zogratiscest
Summary: indra awakens his sharingan. hagoromo has much to teach him.
Relationships: Ootsutsuki Hagoromo/Ootsutsuki Indra
Comments: 14
Kudos: 51





	let your body get a tolerance

Stepping in to assist is natural. As natural as when it was his brother instead of his son.

“Ah…” Indra’s voice catches, soft and breathy. Dark eyes squeeze shut as he struggles to control his breathing, slender fingers biting into Hagoromo’s shoulders as he does his best not to squirm. Inexperienced, he knows he needs to hold still. “Chichiue, it’s…”

Hagoromo kisses his hair, smoothing his hand down Indra’s bare side. The muscles there jump beneath his fingers, flexing and twitching in the faint glow of candlelight that allows them both to see in the room. Not that either of them truly need it. Moonlight would be enough with the Sharingan, but Indra’s eyes were the familiar velvety brown that verges on blackness in just the right light when Hagoromo joined him this evening.

Indra’s face contorts and twists as he forces his breathing into a slow, even rhythm, lips parted around soft exhales that puff warm into the space between them. Watching him is hypnotic, though not in the way it will be when he opens his new eyes for the first time during training. Then, none of his opponents will be able to look away from him.

Not in the way none of them can now. Indra is magnetic. He draws eyes and attention and speculation, and Hagoromo is proud of him. Worried for him, of course— The Sharingan so young, so much skill and talent wrapped up in such a small and fragile frame. But proud of him just the same, for his skill and his accomplishments.

“Was it this hand?” Hagoromo slides his palm against Indra’s smaller hand on his shoulder, lacing their fingers together. It takes effort to tug Indra away from his shoulder, but Indra relents at last. “Is this the one you favor for your lightning jutsu?”

An unfamiliar haze has settled over Indra’s eyes when he manages to pry them open, long lashes casting long shadows on his pale skin. “What?” he asks, voice soft and breathy.

Hagoromo chuckles and presses a kiss to his forehead, over the long hair that tumbles down into his eyes. “Is this the hand you favor for your lightning jutsu?”

“Yes.” Indra frowns up at him, shifting against the futon beneath him and whining high and thin in his throat as he comes to an abrupt halt. “B-but I can use both hands, I just—”

“Always on the defensive, aren’t you?” Hagoromo speaks over him, satisfied when Indra quiets even if it is with a slight pout. “I was merely asking a question. I am well-aware that you’re capable of manipulating ninshu as you see fit. This was the hand you used today.”

Understanding dawns in those eyes he knows so well and Indra nods up at him, his fingers warm and lax as Hagoromo squeezes his hand. The fight bleeds out of him and the tight, hot clench of his body loosens. If only he would learn that not everything has to be a fight, he might advance even further in his studies. “Yes, Chichiue.”

“I see.” Hagoromo turns Indra’s hand over in his own, pressing a kiss to his small palm and admiring the way Indra twists his face away. Pretty pale pink blossoms down the column of his slender, pale throat. Not quite Otsutsuki pale, but Indra has always been fair-skinned.

He takes the offering just the same, pressing Indra’s hand to the futon, keeping it beneath his own as he kisses Indra’s throat. There are chakra burns on his fingers, rough against Hagoromo’s own callused skin, but it takes hardly a thought to soothe them. Poor boy is too talented for his own good, under too much stress with Asura’s life hanging in the balance. It isn’t often that Indra manipulates more than he can handle.

“You’re a good boy, you know.” Hagoromo’s lips trail up to his ear, teeth nipping at the lobe until Indra shivers beneath him. “I don’t know what we’d do without you.”

_ We. _ Because Asura needs his brother just as much as Hagoromo cherishes his eldest son.

Indra peeks up at him from under tousled hair, teeth dragging across his lower lip. “I’m not going anywhere,” he insists, though his voice is soft, almost uncertain.

Hagoromo kisses the corner of his mouth, shifts to cup his son’s cheek and turn his head so he can kiss Indra properly. He’s a quick learner but stumbles under this attention, twitching and trembling. His small body shifts and then writhes, every single movement serving to remind him that their bodies are still wedded together. Hagoromo has gone as slowly as his sanity will allow him, well-aware that he could harm Indra by accident.

Chakra would heal those wounds. That does not mean he intends to cause them.

“Easy,” he whispers, rolling his hips down against Indra’s own. The small push-pull is enough to have Indra gasping, back arching off of the futon. Dark eyes squeeze shut once more, small lips open around soft pants. “Breathe and allow yourself to simply feel.”

Indra is still young, but his body is pliant and warm beneath Hagoromo’s hands and it was a simple matter to open him up and relax him enough to slip inside of him. The only difficulty is that his once-virginal body is prone to tightening up and clenching, every sensation just slightly overwhelming. Of course, Hagoromo takes his time with him. And he can wait as long as Indra needs him to before he dares to go further than he has.

He cups the back of Indra’s neck and kisses him again, nudges his slack lips apart and licks into the hot little well of his mouth. Indra whimpers softly into the kiss but leans up into it, the hand beneath Hagoromo’s twisting and squeezing. It’s a silent plea that Hagoromo heeds as carefully as he can, hips drawing back only a breath before thrusting forward again. Enough to jar Indra’s body, feet kicking against the futon as he whines.

“Chichiue, it’s so  _ much, _ ” he says, the hand still on Hagoromo’s shoulder spasming, fingers digging in so harshly they may yet leave bruises. “Does it always feel like this?”

Hagoromo laughs and drops his head, his forehead resting against his son’s. “Once you’re more used to it, it won’t be quite as overwhelming as it is now. It’s your first time, Indra.”

“I thought it was supposed to hurt?” Indra’s eyes dart down, his cheeks picking up that sweet pink flush once more as he no doubt finds where their bodies are drawn together.

“Not if it’s done correctly. Only those who are careless and thoughtless are liable to make it hurt.” Even Hahaue, in all of her distant coolness, never hurt Hagoromo or Hamura. It shocks him that humans can be so callous. “You’ll communicate, as well, if you are in any discomfort. And if you have chosen a proper partner, they will listen to you.”

Indra nods, the hand on Hagoromo’s shoulder finally fluttering free as he stretches it down toward— Ah. His fingers trace the stretched, hot flesh of his rim and he whines, burying his face against his pillow. Indra, who is not so easily embarrassed, squirming and whimpering like this… Hagoromo will do well to remember this night.

His lips brush Indra’s throat again, picking up the slightly elevated beat of his heart. “Relax and let me take care of you, Indra. Have I ever hurt you?”

“No, Chichiue.” Indra tilts his head back and Hagoromo obliges him, teeth nipping at the soft, pale skin of this throat just to watch him shiver. “It just feels so strange.”

“Because you’re adjusting to something you’ve never done before. It won’t feel like this the entire time.” Hagoromo nibbles his earlobe again, doing his best to contain his urges to shower his son with as much affection as he’ll allow. Indra is his precious firstborn son.

And it would not do for there to ever be a day where he doubted just how loved he is.

“All right.” Indra turns to look up at him again, though the flush has not abated. Only grown deeper as he falters, then grasps at Hagoromo’s shoulder and tries to pull him down.

Silent communication is fine; Hagoromo rewards him with another kiss, biting off a groan against Indra’s mouth when the small body beneath him writhes up against his own. Indra squirms and shifts, making little noises of complaint just before one slender leg manages to wind itself around Hagoromo’s waist. It’s an awkward angle, but he manages it.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” he murmurs against Indra’s lips, licking the protest off of his tongue and sinking into his mouth once more. It’s tempting to keep him pinned right here, lavish him with kisses and praise until he’s weak and trembling and finally just listening, but Hagoromo doesn’t want to leave him waiting. “Do you think you’re ready now?”

Indra nods, frantic little jerks of his head before he leans up for another kiss.

Hagoromo lets go of his hand to grip the line of his waist, holding him absolutely still as he slowly guides himself out of Indra’s body. He knows this dance well, memorized every step when it was him and Hamura and Hahaue, because he was instructed by the best.

“O-oh.” Indra looks up at him, holding his gaze as Hagoromo presses back inside of him, sweet and slow and long. The wonder on his face is something to relish and revel in, the glow of interest in his eyes. Curious little thing, his firstborn. “Chichue, it’s…  _ Oh. _ ”

“A lot to process at first, hmm?” Hagoromo wipes away a small trail of drool from the corner of Indra’s mouth, drinking in the way his eyelids flutter. “Do you want more?”

“Please?” Indra flutters his lashes like he does when he wants to get his hands on another set of scrolls, and Hagoromo has always had difficulty when it comes to telling him no.

Indra was a virgin until this night, and it shows. He’s tight inside, suffocatingly hot and clinging so that every stroke inside of him rubs. If it causes him pain, it must be minimal in comparison to the pleasure. He only moans softly, heel digging into Hagoromo’s back like he wants to keep him close even as he knows he has to let him move. All instinct and not knowing how to channel it properly, his body reacting without his input.

Hagoromo kisses him again, tasting the sweetness of Indra’s soft, breathy moans.

“Very good.” He palms Indra’s hip, presses his thumb into the crease where hip and thigh meet. “You’re doing very well. Let me know if you need me to slow down.”

“Don’t want you to.” Indra peeks up at him shyly. The hand not on Hagoromo’s shoulder wanders up and touches his face, and he tilts his head to press a kiss to Indra’s fingertips. “It’s— Ah! It feels really good, you don’t. You don’t have to slow down.”

He arches his neck and Hagoromo kisses him again, hand slipping under the slender plane of his back. His arm cinches around Indra’s waist, keeping him arched up off of the futon so that every thrust of his cock hits a little deeper. It’s enough to draw little gasping mewls from Indra’s throat, the tight walls of his body squeezing tight in response. There are soft, slick noises that echo through the room, because Hagoromo was careful in his preparations. Perhaps too much so, but he can clean up any mess after the fact.

“Indra.” The name leaves his lips on a reverent sigh and he cups Indra’s cheek, fingers lost in the fall of Indra’s dark hair. “Such a good, beautiful boy. How do you feel?”

“So w-warm.” Indra jolts with another thrust, his thighs twitching. “Chichiue, so warm.”

The space between their bodies is too great, so Hagoromo shifts. Keeps his arm tight around Indra’s waist and lifts the boy from the futon, staying embedded deep inside of him as he sits back with Indra in his lap. The new position sinks Indra down further on his cock and he shudders at Indra’s soft cry, head thrown back in the warm golden glow of the room. Lithe and strong in his arms, curling in close to his chest, panting and whining.

“I’ve got you.” He kisses the top of Indra’s head, groans low in the back of his throat when trembling legs press tight against his sides. “I’m right here, Indra. I have you.”

Shaking hands brace on his shoulders as Indra leans against him, the stiff heat of his cock trapped between their bodies as he all but clings to Hagoromo. And Hagoromo only croons down at him, stroking along the sweep of his spine like he used to when Indra was young and sought him out for comfort. Perhaps he should have moved a touch faster.

The haunted look in Indra’s eyes when he and Asura returned home spurred him to action.

Indra moves first, bracing himself before he rises slowly, carefully. The hot drag of his hole has Hagoromo muffling a low sound against his hair as Indra sinks down with a whine, mouth gaping open as his eyes squeeze shut. He must feel so full, so overwhelmed.

Hagoromo slips his hands under Indra’s thighs, setting the rhythm, supporting him as Indra clings to his neck and gasps up at him. “I told you. I’m right here. I have you.”

“I feel so full.” Indra flushes and tucks his face against Hagoromo’s neck, damp lips pressing uncertain, delicate kisses there. “It’s good, though. It feels good, Chichue.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.” Hagoromo tilts his head to nuzzle into all of that dark hair, hands sliding over smooth bare skin as he coaxes Indra to move just a little faster. The oil he used makes everything slick and smooth, and Indra takes him admirably well.

He can’t help but to touch where his cock slides in and out of his son’s body, fingers rubbing the stretched muscle until Indra keens against his throat. His skin is so hot here, wet with oil, his rim stretched so wide and taking everything Hagoromo gives him. That’s good, then. Will make it easier on him when Asura is old enough to join them.

One step at a time. Acclimate Indra, and worry about Asura when the time comes.

The hands on his shoulders relax as Indra adjusts to the position, and Hagoromo bears most of his weight so he doesn’t exhaust himself. And he kisses him, drinking in the little noises he makes into their kisses. He’s a quick study, his nimble little tongue meeting Hagoromo’s from time to time. But he loses stamina quickly and Hagoromo licks into his mouth, almost dizzied by how wonderful he tastes, how sweet his little tongue is.

“You’re close,” he murmurs against Indra’s lips, laughing softly when Indra makes a small, disbelieving noise up at him. “I can feel it. The way you keep tightening around me.”

Indra moans low in his throat and clings tighter, his thighs shaking with how close his orgasm must be looming over him. “Chichiue, I— I can’t hold it off. It feels so good.”

“I wasn’t going to ask you to wait.” Hagoromo nips at his lower lip, sucks it into his mouth and strokes his tongue over the sensitive flesh. “I want you to let go, Indra. To trust me wholly and completely with your body and your pleasure. I want you to come.”

The friction against his cock and taking Hagoromo so deep must have been a strain on him. Virgins usually come quick, but Indra is something not quite of this world.

He tilts Indra’s chin up so he can watch his face, watch him close his eyes. The sweet flush that spreads all the way down his pretty throat, the way his mouth falls open on soft, hiccuping little sounds as his hips hitch and tremble. The noises build into a high, thin, wavering cry when he comes, a wet splash against Hagoromo’s stomach and the tight clamp of his hole accompanying the pretty sound. Truly, Indra is a wonder to behold.

Hagoromo threads his fingers through Indra’s long hair, careful as he grinds up into the sweet, oversensitive body atop his own. It makes Indra jolt and whine but he takes it, panting harshly and squirming until Hagoromo is nearly there. The moment he starts to shift Indra off of him, though, hands cling to his shoulders once again.

“Inside,” Indra whispers, his still-quivering legs tightening around Hagoromo’s waist as if he thinks himself strong enough to keep Hagoromo in place with so little. “Pl-please.”

How could he deny a plea so sweet when Indra has been so good for him?

Hagoromo kisses him once more and muffles the groans against his lips, grinding up into Indra’s sweet, receptive body until it tips him over the edge. When Indra sags in his arms, trembling and exhausted, Hagoromo just keeps kissing him. Hushing him when he squirms, easing out of him nice and slow so that his sensitized body does not suffer. It is rare to see Indra this exhausted, this relaxed. He works himself so painfully hard.

“Chichiue.” Indra grasps at his shoulders as Hagoromo lays him down, as careful as he can be. Indra is bound to be sore. “St-stay? You’re not going to leave, are you?”

“Of course not. Just give me a moment to clean up the mess.” He pacifies Indra with another kiss, brushing the hair out of his eyes. Hahaue stayed the first night as well. That connection is important, and he knows that well. Indra will learn that in time.

He only leaves to retrieve a damp towel to wipe down Indra’s body, plying him with kisses when he complains about the coolness of the towel against his overheated body. Better to be a little chilly for just a moment than too hot and too dirty to rest. Still, it’s easy enough to quiet him with a few gentle touches and reassurances, and he’s already tired.

It has been a long day. Awakening the Sharingan likely took much out of him.

Hagoromo lies down next to him, drawing the blanket up over their bodies before he slips his arm beneath to touch Indra directly. He’s watched his son grow over the years, the changes in his body, the slow build-up of strength and muscle in lean limbs and resolve in dark eyes. Best not to let him grow up too quickly, of course.

The world is a better place than it once was. Hagoromo specifically fought so that it could be, somewhere safer where his sons could grow up without that looming threat.

Indra rolls over onto his side, hissing softly before he immediately nuzzles up under Hagoromo’s chin. “Are we going to do that again, Chichue? Or just the one time?”

“We’ll do it again if you want to.” Hagoromo smiles when Indra cuddles closer, tightening his grip on his son to keep him close. “And when your brother is old enough, he can join us.”

He does not think he is imagining the slight intake of breath against his throat. “All right.”

“But for now, just rest.” Hagoromo slips a hand into Indra’s hair, petting the long locks while Indra worms slim arms around his neck. “We’ll concern ourselves with that when the time is right, and not before. You’ve had a long day. Sleep. I’ll stay with you.”

He makes a mental note while Indra drifts off in his arms. Hamura should be visiting soon.

**Author's Note:**

> i know asura/indra is good (and rightly so) but consider: hagoromo is a dilf.


End file.
